


overdressed.

by rachelbee



Category: Timeless (TV 2016)
Genre: Baby's first smut, F/M, smut smut smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-09
Updated: 2017-04-09
Packaged: 2018-10-16 16:11:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10574850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rachelbee/pseuds/rachelbee
Summary: Companion piece to 'laundry day' because we all know that after that kiss, they would bang and it would be glorious.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Baby's first smut! Just like my friend warned me I would, I giggled uncontrollably the entire time I was writing this. It's pretty cheesy, too... But come on, if Lucy and Wyatt were living together, there's no way she'd continue sleeping alone after a kiss like that. I had a need.

Lucy was not a spontaneous person by any means.

Ever since she’d attempted a life of spontaneity in college, which resulted in her nearly drowning in the river, she had tried to quell the adventurous spirit inside of her.

Amy was the adventurous one, the free-spirit, the little rebel. Their mother had planned every piece of Lucy’s life, yes, but she had also planned Amy’s.

Or, at least, she’d tried to.

Amy was going to be a government agent, specializing in profiling. She was going to be married by thirty with a baby on the way by the first anniversary. She was going to live in Oakland; her husband would be a cop.

Amy had wanted nothing to do with the life their mother had laid out for her, and had made her distaste well-known. She dated a new guy every month, never making any notion to settle down. Not even when their mother got sick, and Lucy wondered if Amy could just fake it to make their mother happy in her time of dying.

Maybe that was why Carol had turned to Lucy so desperately. Maybe that was why she’d been adamant about Lucy following in her footsteps, and had let Amy do whatever she wanted.

Maybe Carol had known all along that Amy would eventually be lost to her.

That was a sickening thought.

Amy had always pushed Lucy to rebel, to tell their mother ‘no’, to follow her own dreams and make her own future. Those were some of the last words Amy had said to her.

Now that Amy was gone, Lucy was truly living up to her sister’s dreams. Traveling through time - with two men, no less, which she was sure Amy would get a kick out of - chasing down a top-secret organization hellbent on destroying history. Working with and against some of history’s most important figures. Initially chasing a madman through time. Definitely adventurous.

Leaving her mother to move in with one of the men she traveled with, plotting against the very organization she had apparently been born into and groomed for her entire life. Pretty rebellious.

Wearing absolutely nothing but said man’s shirt, which she had accidentally tossed on that morning, when they got back to his apartment after the mission. Knocking on his bedroom door, hoping to elicit a similar reaction to the one she got earlier in the day when he’d first realized she was wearing his shirt.

Well, _that_ wasn’t a Lucy thing to do. And she liked it.

Wyatt was sitting up in bed, already in his pajamas, thumbing absently through a book with one light turned on when she knocked on the door before cracking it open, just her head peeking in. He looked up at the sound, smiling softly at her, and she felt herself go weak at the knees.

She loved this man.

“What’s up, Luce?” he mumbled sleepily, and she could feel her heart pounding in her chest as she realized what she was about to do. She wasn’t nervous, or worried. She was excited, proud of herself for taking a chance. Amy would have been proud. “Are you okay?”

Lucy nodded, her fingers toying with the hem of his shirt from behind the door. “Yeah, I just thought we could talk,” she said softly, her eyes meeting his. “About earlier,” she clarified, and Wyatt nodded.

“Right,” he said, closing his book and scooting over. “Come on in,” he offered, gesturing to the bed. Lucy shook her head, smiling. He frowned.

“I just have a question,” she whispered, smirking at him. Wyatt nodded for her to continue. “Remember how you said I looked really good in your shirt?” she asked, her voice sultry and soft. Wyatt sat up straight, and she imagined his heart rate speeding up, his palms beginning to sweat. Was he reliving the feel of their bodies pressed against each other, their tongues intertwined, their hands everywhere, just like she was?

“Yeah,” he choked out, clearing his throat. “Why?” Lucy shrugged, seemingly indifferent. She loved this. She loved watching him fall apart right in front of her, watching him stammer and search for words to say, to be the one completely and utterly starstruck for once.

“Well, I was just curious,” Lucy asked, stepping out from behind the door.

_Oh, if she’d had a camera._

Wyatt’s eyes widened almost instantly, and he shifted in bed, the box spring creaking with the unexpected movement. His hands had curled into fists, and Lucy imagined him holding himself back. He should’ve known he didn’t have to.

“How do I look now?” she asked, the picture of innocence, her fingers playing with the hem of his shirt. She pulled the ends out, as if it was a dress and she was dipping for a curtsy, twirling slightly.

Wyatt’s eyes darkened again, and she could feel her heart rate accelerating as he slowly, deliberately licked his lips as his blue eyes raked over her body. She felt naked under his gaze, completely exposed to him despite still being clothed.

She liked it.

Lucy inched closer to the bed, tip-toeing softly, smirking at him with every move she made. He watched her carefully, tracking her movements like a predator stalking its prey. That look was back. Want. Need.

He wanted her. Who was she to deny such a thing, especially when she wanted him just as badly?

He still hadn’t answered her, and although she’d meant it as a rhetorical question, she wanted to know his thoughts. She wanted to get inside his head for a moment, wanted a verbal sign that this wasn’t a mistake, that she wasn’t alone in wanting this.

“Wyatt,” she prompted softly as she stood next to the bed, still slightly twirling in his shirt. “How do I look?” Wyatt’s eyes snapped up to meet hers, and she swallowed any semblance of fear she might have had.

“Overdressed,” Wyatt growled, pulling her into his bed, his mouth finding hers instantly. Lucy’s eyes slammed shut as his hands cupped her face, pulling her closer as she settled next to him on the bed.

He rolled over, his body hovering above hers as his tongue traced the inside of her mouth, mapping it out, committing it to memory. Her nails scraped through his hair, clawing at his scalp as she tried to catch her breath. His fingers skimmed the outside of her thigh, cupping her ass as his other hand remained curled in her hair, holding her firmly as he kissed her thoroughly.

Wyatt pulled away suddenly, staring down at Lucy, his eyes wide. He watched her, breathing heavily, her cheeks flushed, her lips swollen from his mouth, her wide eyes staring back at him. He grinned; he liked her like this. Without the threat of Rittenhouse, without the unrelenting fear that had been in her eyes ever since she’d called him after three hours of being gone, asking him to pick her up from her mother’s house. She seemed happy, and Wyatt reveled in that knowledge as he leaned back down to kiss her again, slowly this time.

Wyatt took his time, making note of what made Lucy sigh, what made her breathing hitch, what made her fingers claw at him of their own volition. His mouth migrated to her neck and collarbone, and he slowly kissed his way down to the swell of her breasts, hidden by his shirt.

She held her hands up, and he paused. She wordlessly began unbuttoning the shirt, slowly plucking each button from its slit. Once it was completely unbuttoned, her hands fell away to her sides, leaving the shirt covering her body. Wyatt carefully inched the shirt away, Lucy moaning quietly as the rough pads of his fingers smoothed over her soft skin. His thumb brushed over a nipple and Lucy arched her back, whimpering.

Wyatt pushed the rest of the shirt off of her body, his hands curling around her arms as he leaned back in to kiss her soundly. Lucy sighed, winding her arms around his neck, holding his body against hers, his t-shirt brushing against her already sensitive nipples. She moved her hands down to grasp at the hem of his t-shirt, tugging.

“Wait, Luce,” Wyatt breathed, pulling away. “Are you sure?” he asked breathlessly. Lucy stared up at him, his hair mussed from her fingers running through it. She smiled softly, tugging his shirt up again, and this time he let her, helping her pull it off of him and toss it aside.

His chest covered hers immediately, one arm braced above her head as the other pressed against her back, melding their bodies together. Lucy moaned as he focused his attention on her jaw and neck, leaving wet kisses up and down the column of her throat. Her hands reached down again and she quickly pushed the waistband of his pajama pants down, slipping her hand inside his boxers.

“God, Lucy,” Wyatt groaned against her shoulder, resting his head in the crook of her neck as she took him in her hand, pumping him in quick short bursts, brushing her thumb over the tip. His mouth paused on her neck, brushing soft kisses there as she worked him. He retaliated, reaching down between their bodies, his finger dipping inside her.

Lucy moaned breathlessly, her hand stuttering as he spread her open. “Wyatt,” she whispered, his mouth finding hers as he slid his finger out of her, resting his hand over hers gently and pulling it out of his pajama pants. He quickly shucked his pants and boxers off, tossing them away aimlessly.

“Tell me what you want, Lucy,” Wyatt muttered against her skin as he kissed his way from her stomach to the valley of her breasts to that spot by her ear that made her sigh. Her hands reached up to grasp his hair in her small fists, pulling his mouth back to hers, kissing him hard. She felt his cock twitch against her thigh and pulled away, gasping.

“You,” she replied breathlessly. “I need you.”

Lucy wasn’t a virgin at all, and while it had been a while, she wasn’t a stranger to the familiar burn between her legs as he slid into her. Before she had decided to strip and wear nothing but his shirt, hoping this exact thing would happen, she had struggled to remember when her last time had been.

She figured it must have been Jonas, the department chair that denied her tenure. _Ass_. That had definitely helped her decide whether this newfound spontaneity and recklessness was something she should follow through.

Clearly, it was.

Lucy moaned against his mouth, her fingers tangled in his hair, pulling at the short strands, as he pulled almost all the way out and gently thrust back in. He took his time, setting a steady pace, lavishing kisses anywhere he could reach as she felt wave after wave of pleasure wash over her. She was so close, unbearably close, and she began meeting his thrusts with her own, working up to her release.

She wasn’t prepared for how _gentle_ he was, how sweetly he kissed her, how tenderly he stroked her cheek, his thumb brushing across the soft skin under her eye, his fingers in her hair, holding her against him. He pulled her closer, scooping her into his arms and sitting up on his knees, pulling her with him, their mouths fused together.

Her arms moved to wrap around his neck as his wrapped around her back, pressing their bodies together. Her legs locked around his hips, and he thrust up into her, faster this time. Lucy moaned as she felt the familiar sensation building low in her gut.

“Wyatt,” she breathed against his mouth. He hummed against her skin as her head fell back. “Shit,” she gasped as she felt his hips stutter. He pulled back to look at her, tilting her head forward, resting their foreheads against each other.

“Let go for me, Luce,” he growled, kissing her and she moaned as she felt her insides quiver. She cried out, her fingers gripping the back of his neck as she slammed her eyes shut. She was vaguely aware of his thrusts stuttering as he pulled her back in for a bruising kiss as he pulsed inside her. Lucy whimpered into his mouth as they each rode out their orgasms.

Their lips parted, breathing heavily as she rested her forehead against his, her fingers smoothing gently down the nape of his neck. Their eyes remained closed as their mouths sought each other, trading soft kisses as they both caught their breath.

Lucy pulled away, opening her eyes, watching as his fluttered open. How the _hell_ was it possible for his eyes to look even bluer now than they did before? What kind of sick, twisted game was the universe playing on her?

Wyatt smirked at her and she wanted to kiss that look right off his face. She could do that now, she supposed. He suddenly pitched forward, throwing them both back down onto the bed.

“Wyatt!” Lucy squealed as he landed next to her, chuckling as he pulled her body against his, kissing her slowly. She sighed, her hand resting on his cheek, stroking the soft stubble there. His hand reached up and caught hers, holding it there.

“You still look _really_ good in my shirt,” he whispered, nipping gently at her lips. “But I like this look much better on you.” Lucy playfully rolled her eyes, curling further into his arms as he pulled the covers up over them.

“I can’t exactly wear _nothing_ to work, though, Wyatt,” she admonished gently, her fingertips stroking his chest as she lay in his arms, her head resting in the crook of his shoulder. He hummed thoughtfully against her hair, the sound sending a vibration through her body that made her giggle.

“Guess you’ll have to stay in my shirts, then,” he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to her temple. “Get some sleep, Luce. We’re still out of coffee.”

Lucy laughed, snuggling deeper down into his arms, her eyes slipping shut as his thumb smoothed over her wrist, soothing her as she quickly fell asleep.


End file.
